Allegiances
by Fellowshipper
Summary: GenX -- sequel to "Before We Leave This Place." Angelo decides to take a more direct approach with how he feels for Paige.
1. Default Chapter Title

**Title**: Allegiances 

**Rating**: Somewhere around a PG for...stuff, I guess.

**Disclaimer**: Nuttin' given, nuttin' gained. I own nothin', never have, never will. 

**Notes**: I took French, not Spanish, so I tried to cheat and get away with using as few Spanish-isms as I could. Sorry. This is also a sequel to "Before We Leave This Place." You don't have to read the first one, but I think it might help. :)

******

"Does it hurt?" 

Angelo leaned over his friend, inspecting the new object in his brow curiously. Jono only stared at him, keeping his end of the conversation limited. 

*I got no bleedin' nerves, Ange. I feel fine.* His forehead creased as he reached up to touch the thin bar now pierced into his eyebrow, wincing as it scraped against his skin. *Felt that one.* 

"I used to have one in my eyebrow, too," Angelo started for conversation's sake, watching as the man that had done the piercing rose from his seat and walked to the opposite side of the room. "The hole grew over, though. Havin' too much skin kinda does that to a guy." 

Jono raised the newly-pierced eyebrow, then shrugged and sat up, looking around the shop the younger man had dragged him into. He hadn't been aware of the fact that the Latino had planned for him to get pierced. 

*Used to 'ave me ear pierced. Gayle liked it for some reason.* From what little could be made of his expression, Angelo was guessing that Jono hadn't liked the earring at all. *Let it go after movin' 'ere.* 

The man came back over to join them, rattling off details about tending to the pierced spot, details to which Jono was barely listening. He was instead inspecting a Ministry CD he had found inside the shop, going over the track listing. 

"That's a good one." 

Jono looked up, for the first time noticing that the man had a nametag reading "Hi, I'm Gor." The Brit didn't want to know nor ask where the name had originated. *I 'ad it, then lost it.* 

Gor's eyes widened briefly at the telepathic comment. "Mutant, huh?" Jono was a bit stricken for words, then nodded slowly. Gor shrugged. "Cool. You boys want anything else? You've already gotten everything else we sell here." 

Angelo looked down at the shirt he had yet to pay for, then the two CDs and gold eyebrow bar his friend bought, then looked back at Gor. "What else ya got?" 

"Tattoos." 

Angelo looked hopefully down at Jono, whose dark brown eyes narrowed to thin slits. Angelo coughed. "Um...Well, I guess we'd better quit while we're ahead, huh? I think this'll be enough." 

Gor, completely indifferent to the matter, shrugged yet again and walked out of the room to the main part of the building to relieve the co-owner of the store from checkout duty. Jono caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror on the wall when he stood, and he absently scratched at his unruly hair. 

*So 'ow much trouble yer think I'm gonna get in?* 

"You're an adult. They'll deal." 

Jono seemed to consider the thought a moment before nodding his agreement and grabbing the CDs to take out front. Purchases paid for and another quick reminder of how to take care of the new ring, the two left the building, and after a minute of bickering and pleading Angelo succeeded in getting the keys to the jeep they had driven there. 

*Are yer gonna stay?* 

Angelo seemed caught off guard by the question. "Stay where?" 

*At school. After ... I dunno, after yer graduate.* 

"Hell no." Angelo didn't hesitate before answering, pulling from the parking lot and heading out onto the road, swearing quietly in Spanish as a herd of daycare kids were led across the street in front of him, causing him to be stopped by a red light. "I mean, I'll miss some of you guys an' all, but it's not like I wanna be some X-Man or nothin'." 

*Some?*

"Huh?"

*Yer said 'some' of us. I take it yer won't miss Monet.* 

"She helps me with my English papers after kicking my pride down a few notches," Angelo started thoughtfully, turning the stereo up louder, "but other than that, no." 

*So who else?* 

"Tristan." Angelo gripped the wheel a bit tighter, only partly noticable to Jono. He could understand the feeling. 

*Tell me about it. The lil' sod gets on everyone's nerves, I think." 

"All of us except Paige," Angelo noted without thinking. He blanched even as he did so, remembering the emotions that had been involved between the two of his friends. 

Jono gave a somewhat mangled snort. *Yeah, well...* He trailed off, having lost interest in that particular train of thought. *She can do better than 'im.* 

"Yeah." Angelo paused, stopping outside a club and eying it suspiciously. "Tell me somethin', por favor?" 

*Wot?*

"How old do I look?" 

Jono's brow creased. *Why?* He noticed the Latino staring at the club, one which didn't admit minors, and he shook his head. *No. We're gonna be in enough trouble as it is with this damn thing I let yer talk me into,* Jono snapped irritably, pointing to his left brow. Angelo gave a small grin.

"Wrong. You'll be yelled at, not me. You're the older one between us, remember? And if you're gonna get yelled at, then I might as well do somethin', too." He pointed to the club. "An' besides. I just wanna go in, see if I can maybe meet a few chicas." 

*Liar. Yer gonna go get drunk.* 

Angelo had the look only a mischievous child could manage.

Jono stared at his friend, the rational part of him screaming at him to put a swift end to that certain idea. Then again, he really didn't want to be the only one to be dragged into Emma's office... *Go with nineteen. Maybe twenty. Don't push it.* 

Angelo grinned again, tossing Jono the keys and getting out of the jeep. "Gracias, amigo." 

*An' don't expect me to cover for yer arse if Frost finds out!* 

"Wouldn't dream of it." 

Jono continued to stare at Angelo, then shook his head sadly and walked around to the driver's side. *I'm givin' yer a couple 'ours, Ange. Don't push it, all right?*

"Si, si. Go on. You're cuttin' in on my two hours." He turned and walked away without a glance back, leaving Jono wondering just how long this was going to get them grounded to campus. 

******

There was only one conclusion to be drawn from the entire mess, and it had to be that alcohol, in any form, was extremely evil. 

Angelo stared at the shot glass before him, then to the small pyramid he had started to build with his other ones, and let out a drunken moan. Though not in particularly bad shape at the moment, he knew he was going to feel it in the morning. That was enough to make him slow down. 

Unfortunately, it was enough to spur him on, causing him to continue to ramble to the bartender. 

"So what should I do, hombre? Should I just...y'know, let her go, or what?" 

Liam, as told by the tag on his shirt, gave a faint shrug of his shoulders, beginning to dismantle the stack of glasses Angelo had accumulated. "The girl at school?" 

"Si." 

Liam looked thoughtful. "Well, it sounds like a helluva situation to me, but I say go for it. I mean, you never know, right?" 

Angelo didn't comment on the man's thick Boston accent, figuring he had no right to do so, as the alcohol only served to make him burst into unintelligible Spanish rants now and again. "Si. But what about her boyfriend?"

"If he's as big a jerk as you say he is, then I wouldn't worry about it. The girl'd thank you later." 

Angelo nodded in agreement, barely glancing up as he noticed Jono coming to stand beside him. "Hola, Jono." 

*Hi.* Having dealt with Angelo in that shape before and knowing he wouldn't answer truthfully, Jono turned to the bartender. *'Ow many 'as 'e 'ad?* 

Liam was somewhat surprised at the telepathic speech, even further surprised at the fact it was undoubtedly British in origin, then pointed to the still-standing pyramid of glasses. "Mostly Jack Daniels, but he's had a couple tequilas." 

Jono's nose wrinkled in distaste as he tried to coax Angelo off the barstool. *Dunno wot it is with yer Spanish an' yer horse-piss tequila.* The attempt at a joke went unnoticed by Angelo, and Jono rolled his eyes. *Don't do this, Ange, please? Not when I'm the one that let yer come in 'ere.* 

"You didn't *let* me go anywhere," Angelo snapped suddenly, sliding off the stool and standing on unsteady feet. "You're not mi madre." 

*I didn't say I was, but I should o' used more sense than to give yer free reign o' this place.* Jono gestured to his watch. *And I've given yer an extra half 'our. Frost's already gonner 'ave us bloody hung. Now come on.* 

Angelo seemed prime to argue again, then thought better of it and slapped a bill down on the bar. "That should cover it, derecha?" 

"I have no idea what that meant, but hold on. You'll get a couple bucks back." 

Angelo shrugged. "Keep it. Tip." 

Liam stared down at the bill. "Hmph. Well, thanks, kid." 

"No problem." He let himself be led out the door by a slightly aprehensive Jono, settling himself in the passenger seat and muttering softly in Spanish, aggravating his friend. 

*Stop that.* 

"Stop what?"

*The mumbling. If yer gotta do it, at least do it in English.* 

"You're one to talk!" Angelo chuckled, turning to better see the older mutant. "Last time we went drinkin', I couldn't understand a word you said." Though his words were beginning to slur a bit, Jono clearly understood what his friend meant. He had been upset over failing an important physics test and ready to try out a new aspect of his telepathy that he had been made aware of, one that would allow him to be a virtual mental hacker and tap into others' senses. Consequently, he had went out and relied on Angelo to get drunk for both of them, and then he had started ranting in a Cockney accent so thick Angelo had been forced to stop listening. 

*That was a long time ago, Ange. And at least I was talkin' in English.* 

"If you can call whatever you were saying English." 

Jono looked at his friend, then directed his attention back to the road, continuing the drive in silence. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes:** Ah, and so the soap opera grows more involved. Also, sorry for these next few parts being so late and far from the first chapter, but I've been busy lately, if you can believe it. Among those busy things that kept me from posting, I managed to snag Godsmack tickets for 3/12. *cheers* Sorry, had to share. On with the story. 

******

Jono considered it no small miracle that Angelo had kept his mouth shut the entire drive home, at least until they got out of the car. He took one look to the left and noticed that the small Plymouth Tristan favored to drive around was parked inside the garage, and he sneered. 

"Well. It's nice of him to bring Paige home, huh?" Jono stared at him, obviously not understanding the reference. "Took her out to dinner earlier. Noble, wasn't it?" 

Jono chose to remain quiet on the issue, getting out of the car and pulling the passenger side door open. *C'mon, Angelo. You need sleep.* 

"What I need, mi amigo, is to see that rat get pinned to a wall," Angelo corrected with a pointed glance to the car. "Wanna help me run 'im down?" 

*I want yer t'shut up before someone hears us.* 

Angelo stared up at the older mutant with bleary eyes, then pulled himself out of the car and accepted the arm offered him. "I wrote 'er a letter, y'know." 

*Who?* 

"Paige. Wrote her this letter earlier today 'bout how I like 'er and everything. Then she told me she was goin' out with whasshisname." 

Jono's raised eyebrows were the only indication he had even heard Angelo. He tightened his grip around the Latino's shoulders and struggled to get him inside the school before someone noticed them outside. While he had experienced on many occasions the task of trying to carry a drunken friend inside, it had still been ages ago. That would explain why he accidentally ran Angelo into a table that sat beside the door. 

"Ow!" 

*Sorry, mate,* Jono apologized sheepishly, grabbing Angelo's thin shoulders and guiding him to the stairs. *Think you can make it from 'ere?* 

"Ye...yeah." Angelo had to pause halfway through after being interrupted by a sharp intake of breath. "Muchos gracias." 

*Don't mention it.* Angelo grinned. *I mean that in the most literal way.* 

Angelo watched as Jono walked down the hallway and entered the door that led to the basement, then looked up the steps, debating on whether or not he wanted to take the effort to walk up them. 

That was when he had the brilliant idea that he would much rather go find the girls' dorm. 

******

Paige looked down at her physics text book, yawning over it. She began flipping through the pages in search of an old study guide, stopping short when she came to a previous chapter. She had been tutoring Jono at the time, though whether he really needed the help or simply wanted the company, she didn't know. Nonetheless, there was a small note written in her book overtop a picture of Newton that made her slam the book shut. The words kept repeating themselves over and over again in her mind, though, causing her to sniff. 

"Thanks for the help, Sunshine. It's appreciated. :) -- My surrogate grin." 

She rose, walking to the window and parting the curtains enough to look out at the still, moonlit night. While not exactly as clear as the nights had been in Kentucky, she still had to admit that it was beautiful in a rather scenic way. 

She wasn't aware that someone else was admiring the scenery as well. 

"You look nice, Country Mouse." 

Paige whirled, struck dumb by the comment. Angelo stood in her doorway, leaning against the frame with long, thin arms folded across his chest. 

"Angelo? What are you doing in here? It's ... almost one!" She stated after a quick look to her alarm clock. Angelo shrugged, taking a step into the room. 

"I know. I was just...thinkin'. 'Bout us. Jono. Rat-boy." 

Paige's eyes narrowed. "If that's what you came up here for..." 

"I came up here to tell you that I like you." 

Paige stepped a bit closer, sniffing tentatively and drawing back immediately after. "You've been drinking!" 

"Jus' a little," Angelo blatantly lied, neither expecting nor caring for Paige to believe him. He edged forward, eyes glittering as if he were hiding some treasured secret. "But I _do_ like you." 

"You're gonna wake her up." Paige dodged the remark by pointing at Jubilee. Angelo laughed. 

"You're joking, right? A bomb could drop beside her an' she'd never hear it." He paused thoughtfully, rethinking his words. "Even though you probably wouldn't be hearin' much if a bomb dropped beside you." 

Paige huffed, looking down at her plain sweat pants and oversized t-shirt, then back up at Angelo. "If you wanna talk, then at least wait 'til we get out of here." 

Angelo was ready to argue before sense managed to get through the alcohol-induced haze that had taken over his brain. He nodded mutely, backing out the door and poking his head back in just as Paige thought it was safe to breathe again. 

"Outside the library good for you?" 

"Yes, now go!" 

Angelo held up his hands in defense and shut the door behind him. 

******

Paige walked with the force of one treading on glass, her footsteps light and barely detectable in the silence provided by the early morning. She hadn't bothered changing clothes, opting to slip on a pair of her jogging shoes and a blue sweater. 

Angelo, she noted, hadn't even thought to wear a sweater. She could see him shivering faintly in the shallow light provided by the moon, smoke from a newly-lit cigarette trailing around him, and she sighed. Why had she even agreed to come out here? 

"I was beginning to wonder if you forgot about me, chica." 

Paige sat down beside her friend, using the trunk of the tree as a backrest. "I had to find my shoes." The strained silence continued to the point she could no longer stand it. "Ange, are you just drunk and rambling, or..." 

"I know what I'm doin'. Jono seems to feel the need to mother me, but you know how he is. Such a damn loner, he has to coddle everyone he actually gets close to." 

Paige looked away, back to the campus. "Actually, no. I wouldn't know that." 

Angelo winced. "Sorry, chica." He reached out and touched her hand, causing her to jump. He drew back his hand, resting it on his knee. "You know, I don't mean to talk bad about my best friend, but he really should have treated you better than he did." Paige didn't reply, only kept looking away, trying to ignore the way the simple words caused spikes to be continually driven into her heart. 

Angelo took another drag off the cigarette before stubbing it out against one of the tree's roots that came above ground. "Are you happy, Country Mouse? With ra...Tristan. Tell me you are an' I'll forget any of this happened." 

Paige remained silent, turning her face down to stare at her lap. 

"Is he really what you want?" 

Paige looked up finally, blue eyes watering slightly. "I don't know, Ange. I'm so confused right now, I don't really know what I want." She gasped sharply, struggling to keep her emotions under control. "I really don't." She let herself be wrapped in her friend's arms, feeling a bit awkward as some extra skin wrapped around her in an attempt to bring her further comfort. 

Angelo remained silently holding her, cheek resting against her hair. He murmured quietly, his words an eclectic blend of both Spanish and English. Paige didn't care; she wasn't listening anyway. Just being held for once and knowing someone cared enough to do it was all she needed, and so she was content to sit there on the cold ground with her arms linked around Angelo's waist. 

She pulled away when she could feel her arms falling asleep. The moonlight shining down cast an eerie and yet somewhat graceful light on the Latino's face, causing her to look away suddenly. She had already lost Jono; she wasn't going to lose Tristan. Unfortunately for her, the brief eye contact had been enough for Angelo; he touched her chin lightly, turning her back to face him. She started to move away again until Angelo refused her the chance. He leaned forward and gently, softly captured her lips with his own, gratified by feeling her struggling for only a moment longer before sinking into the kiss, returning it with every bit as much fervor as he could hope. 

Neither of them saw Tristan watching them from his bedroom window.


	3. Chapter Three

"That is positively disgusting." 

Jubilee looked up from her cereal bowl, glad to see she had already sufficiently grossed Monet out for the day. This time, it was even barely after they had came into the kitchen for breakfast. She was getting better. 

"There's nothin' wrong with this!" She protested for the sake of an argument, looking down at her Fruit Loops with chocolate milk and marshmallows mixed into a multi-colored mush. "It's nutricious and just the kick-start ya need to start the day." She scooped a large spoonful and held it out. "Here, try some!" 

Monet's nose wrinkled in disgust as she grabbed her bagel and walked back to the table. Jubilee smirked and swallowed the gunk on her spoon. 

Paige grinned to herself, head bowed over a bowl of corn flakes. She was trying everything to ignore Angelo, who had seated himself directly across from her for the sole purpose of irritating her, and going to great pains not to speak to Tristan. 

Angelo risked a glance over the various cereal boxes piled on the table to catch Paige staring at him; both of them looked down immediately after, and he chastised himself for acting like a shy schoolboy. Despite a throbbing headache, he was still able to notice Tristan coming to stand beside him.

"Good morning." 

Angelo's eyebrow raised. "Mornin'." He swallowed one of the Tylenols before him with a mouthful of orange juice, then directed his attention to the boy at his side, not being given a chance to speak. 

"Sleep well?" 

"No, actually, I didn't. But I'll live, so don't worry yourself." 

Tristan, never one for subtlety, looked directly at Paige, then back at Angelo, causing the Latino to gulp nervously. The guy knew. He had to. 

"I was more concerned for Paige losing sleep, actually." 

Angelo pushed his chair away from the table and rose to his feet, staring levelly at Tristan. Emma Frost, standing at the counter by the sink, watched them closely to make sure nothing happened. Tristan was by that point ignoring everyone in the room but the boy in front of him. 

"I heard someone coming in late last night, so I went and looked. What do I see but you and Jonothon coming in, with you barely able to stand. And then you decide to go take advantage of Paige?" He asked incredulously, completely unaware of Angelo's hand balling into a fist. 

"I never took advantage of no one, vato. And maybe she wouldn't have even wanted the company if you treated her like more than a lap dog once in a while." Angelo inched forward, refusing to listen to Emma's protests at him to stop. Tristan seemed undaunted. 

"Maybe she would rather be _my_ lap dog than be with you of her own say." 

No one saw him move until Tristan had been taken to the ground with one punch that had connected with his jaw and mouth, splitting his lip and causing blood to trickle down it. Angelo leaned over him, eyes wild. 

"You're using her!" He cried angrily, ready to hit him again when he found himself frozen in place. 

"Both of you, in my office now!" Emma had heard enough of the argument, stopping it short before any more bloodshed had a chance to occur. Angelo glared at her as she released the hold she had over his mind, then stormed out of the kitchen, tailed by Tristan and the White Queen. 

Jubilee glanced down at her cereal, then looked at Paige. "Wow, Hayseed. I wish I knew yer secret. I mean, you've got three different guys in the school fighting over ya, an' I can't even get one to notice me." She gave a heavy sigh, spearing a marshmallow with the end of her spoon. Monet opened her mouth to say something, then thought of a better remark as she breezed past Jubilee. 

"Some of us have the ability to attract others." She gave a pointed glance to Jubilee's slouching form over her breakfast. "I believe it's called charm." 

Paige could only continue staring at her cereal and wonder when life had gotten so utterly complicated. 

******

Jono let out a steady stream of telepathic mumbles as he slowly made his way from the basement to Emma's office. While no longer having any particular need for sleep, it was still nice when he managed to rest now and again. He had just managed to fall asleep when Emma had contacted him, telepathically ordering him to come to her office, and as he didn't have a death wish and was too tired to argue anyway, he agreed. 

Now he was regretting it. 

He risked a quick glance down at himself, expecting Emma to say something about his lack of a fashion statement with faded blue jeans that had long since lost the knees and a black sweatshirt with orange stripes racing up the sleeves. 

A little reassuring that it wasn't the end of the world and Emma wouldn't kill them, if for no other reason than to avoid those pesky homicide cops, and he was ready to walk inside. He wasn't expecting to see both Angelo and Tristan already seated there, spaced on either side of the desk with an empty chair between them. 

"Nice of you to join us, Jonothon." 

Jono shrugged, dropping down into the white chair across from Emma's desk. *Didn't think you wanted me comin' in 'ere with just me shorts.* 

Emma gestured for her student to seat himself, then leaned back in her chair, eying the three teens warrily. "In light of recent events, I've felt the need to have a talk with the three of you. All of you." 

Jono looked at Tristan, surprised to find his bottom lip was swollen and his left jaw wasn't doing much better. When he looked to Angelo for an explanation. The Latino simply shook his head and refused to answer. 

"I've watched all of you closely for quite some time, and I've kept out of your affairs. However, if you can't resolve whatever it is that's going on with Paige, then let me make something clear for all of you." Her chair gave a protesting squeak as she leaned forward, her hands folded and resting atop her desk. "Deal with it, or I will." 

*Deal with wot?* Jono was positively miffed at the entire spectacle. He had expected to be yelled at for coming back to school late, not to be yelled at for something dealing with Paige. *I think I slept longer than I thought.* 

Emma ignored the question, looking directly at Angelo. "From what I gather, Mr. Espinosa, you came home rather late last night, didn't you?" Angelo gave a quick, curt nod. "Care to give me a reason why?" 

Angelo, by that point knowing that he was going to get into trouble if he had claimed to be volunteering for a convent full of crippled nuns, was intent on telling the truth. "Drinking." 

Emma's delicately trimmed eyebrows quirked slightly. "Really. How interesting, considering you had Jono with you." She turned that same commanding glare to her oldest student. For his credit, he met her eyes levelly, hoping she wouldn't notice his nails digging into the arms of his chair. It was much too early to deal with being threatened by an angry teacher. 

And that was before she noticed Jono's latest mutilation. 

"What is this?" She demanded an answer, pointing to the foreign object now pierced into the Brit's eyebrow. 

*An eyebrow ring.* 

Emma sighed impatiently. "I'm very much aware of that, Jonothon. But why did you get it?" 

*Because I'm an adult an' I can do wot I want?* 

"Because you're trying to make things difficult on me," Emma replied for him, her fingers wrapping against her arm. "And I also apparently have mistaken your age for wisdom. You let him get drunk last night." 

*I was tryin' to let 'im get 'is problems worked out.* 

"By letting him drink himself out of them?" She asked angrily, blue eyes turning colder than usual. "I've never known you to be this irresponsible, Jonothon. I'm disappointed that you didn't have enough sense to keep him away from the liquor." 

*I ain't his mum. I'm not about to act like some dotin' hen mother.* 

"You could at least act like a sensible adult," Emma snapped at him, huffing and blowing a strand of platinum blond hair from her eyes. "Until you can learn to do one simple thing, that being actually acting your age, I'm putting your driving privileges on probation. That means-"

*I'll 'ave to tell you where I'm goin' an' when I'm goin'. Yeah, I've 'eard it before. Ma'am,* Jono amended at seeing the glare the woman shot him. The Nazi salute he threw at her was not lost on her; she just chose to ignore it, turning to better see Tristan. 

"This entire meeting has started off so smoothly," the heavy sarcasm in her voice was almost tangible, "why don't you give me your side of the story?" 

Tristan gave a smug look to both males beside him before launching into his own tale. "I heard someone coming in late last night, so I decided to see what was happening. Those two were coming inside, and not long after that, I noticed Angelo and Paige outside talking. Then they were kissing." He had the satisfied look of a small child knowing he had just gotten an older sibling into trouble, yet there was no denying the quiet anger simmering in his voice. 

Jono's eyebrows arched to a peak so high, Angelo mused that the Brit no longer possessed a forehead. *That so?* Angelo nodded wordlessly, staring down at the carpet. The slight static Jono emitted over the psychic link was enough of a snort to get the point across, and he shifted in his seat, hands gripping the chair's arms a bit tighter. *Should 'it yer meself then.*

"No one is going to be hitting anyone, Jonothon," Emma interrupted sternly, her voice revealing just how very adamant she was in her decision. 

*Not while we're in 'ere, anyway.* 

Emma's eyes widened at the way Jono's words had more or less challenged her authority. "If you're suggesting something, Mr. Starsmore, you would be well advised to rethink your course of action." 

"He's mad 'cause of this whole triangle we got goin' on between us," Angelo pointed out suddenly, not daring to look at his friend. At least, he assumed they were still friends. "Mad 'cause the country mouse is goin' out with Tristan...mad 'cause I still like 'er." Angelo let his next statement slip out, only moments later biting down on the inside of his cheek. "Mad 'cause he let her go in the first place." 

Emma grew genuinely worried for the arm rests of Jono's chair, as he was by then gripping them so that his knuckles were a sickly shade of white. She was still surprised by the simple fact Jono remained silent for as long as he did. 

*I'm mad 'cause you 'ad to 'ave been standin' by, waiting for us t'split up,* he muttered accusingly at Angelo, eyes narrowing. *An' I thought Tristan was the one I 'ad t'watch.* 

Angelo's fingers twitched, the tell-tale sign that he would spring from his seat at any moment. His nerves had already been tried to the breaking point, and besides that he had a raging headache. He was in no mood to be pushed around by anyone, best friend or not. Then again, Emma noted anxiously, Jono fully suspected the attack, judging from the barely visible glowing she could see behind his bandages, gradually lightening from a deep indigo to a fiery orange. 

*Easy, Jonothon,* she ordered telepathically, trying anything to get his attention. *Tristan is still in here.* 

Jono started to shoot back that he really couldn't care less, then shook his head, shaggy brown hair falling into his face. He was too preoccupied trying to rip the arms from the chair to brush it away. 

Though mourning for her abused chair, Emma was glad that at least one minor crisis had been avoided for the time being. She had no doubt that Angelo and Jono both would end up throwing punches before it was over and done with, but then, boys would be boys and no amount of preaching on Earth would stop them. 

"I hope, for your sakes and for those around you, that you boys can get this mess straightened out. It's not good for you, your peers, and especially not Paige." She paused as if trying to think of something else to say. "You're dismissed. Angelo, please stay a moment." The Latino hesitated, eyes downcast. He didn't need to look up to know Tristan was smirking at him for his obvious defeat. Didn't want to see Jono staring at him with the look only a betrayed friend could manage, though where the betrayal part came in, exactly, he wasn't sure. 

And that headache was getting worse. 

"As you are all young adults and capable of taking care of yourselves," Emma started, getting from her seat and walking around to sit at the edge of her desk, "I make it a point to stay as far from your personal matters as possible. But this whole thing with Paige has gone on far too long." 

Angelo was at a loss for words. He kept quiet. 

"However, time changes people, and I'm going to bend my non-involvement rule long enough to tell you that, solely as a personal belief, I feel that while it would undoubtedly be a ... unique combination, I think you and Paige could be happy together. Tristan is with her to flex the power he believes he holds over her. I truly believe Jono cared for her, but was too wrapped up in himself to see that she only wanted someone to treat her the way I think you would." She hesitated, scratching her eyebrow. "Tell anyone this and I will most certainly deny I ever said it, but I honestly hope you can make things work out with her, and with Jonothon." 

Angelo, too stunned to say much else, blurted, "gracias, senorita." 

Emma waved her hand and moved behind her desk, opening a drawer and taking from it a bottle of extra-strength Tylenol. "Here. They're strong. They help with telepaths when they let their guards down...and they help teenage boys who think they can go out drinking all night and not get hangovers." She handed the bottle to Angelo, causing him to smile appreciatively. 


	4. Chapter Four (The End)

Jono stared out the library window to see Angelo and Paige sitting at the base of the large oak tree, the same place they had been meeting nearly every night. He felt guilty for spying on them but still continued to do so. 

Now he was putting an end to it. 

He looked down at the letter he had been trying to write, a feeling akin to hot tears stinging painfully at his eyes; unfortunately, he had lost the ability to cry long ago, along with several other functions. He was mad at himself for not having seen what was beneath his nose the entire time, with Paige all but begging him to pay attention to her, mad at himself for not having seen it until it was too late, mad at Angelo for pointing that out to him and making him think of something he had been trying to forget, mad at Tristan for merely being an opportunist. 

Reading over the letter twice again to make sure he hadn't missed anything, he swiped at dry eyes in a gesture hauntingly familiar to what he had done several times before; letters that had been written saying goodbye to his friends, family, girlfriend, letters that had left him nearly crying himself to sleep. 

And there he sat, doing it all over again. 

Eyes closing briefly as he tried to gather his courage, he folded the letter up and stuffed it in the back pocket of his jeans, then left the library. 

******

Angelo gave a heavy, tired sigh as he slunk into his room, wanting nothing more than to collapse on his bed and sleep away the rest of the week. While he enjoyed the late night gossip-fests with Paige, they were starting to tax his nerves, especially when he knew he had classes the next morning. 

He had just managed to fall face-first on the mattress when he felt something crinkling beneath him. Frustrated at the interruption and vowing vengeance on whoever put it there, he pulled it out from underneath his thin body and immediately halted the movement of his hand in mid-air. 

He knew that writing. 

Trembling faintly, he unfolded the paper, noticing that it had been ripped and taped back together. The dim light provided by the small bedside lamp allowed him to read the familiar, small writing. 

_Angelo_

_This is probably one of the strangest letters I've ever written, giving my blessing (as if you need it, even) to my best friend, who's going to be dating my ex, if you can call her that, before long. Maybe it's self-righteousness on my part to even think I need to do this, but I think it'd help me sort everything out. _

_I'm sorry for blowing up at you a few days ago. I'm also sorry for the split lip. I'm also sorry for the fact you felt the need to kick me in the nether regions, because it hurt like bloody hell. Not many nerves left in my body, but apparently there are still some there. _

_I was just upset at everything. I think I was probably more angry with myself than anything, and since I've been nursing my wounded pride and still-aching parts, it's given me some time to put things in perspective. What made me angrier than anything is that I'm pretty sure you could take better care of Paige than I can or could. I won't deny it. I did at first, and that only made things worse. It also got me kicked in the groin when I started a fight over it. So I'll come right out and say it now. You can be good to her, Ange, I know you can. Given the chance, you will be. _

_It hurts, seeing certain things just sort of...repeat. As hard as it may be to believe, I really did love Gayle. That's why we had a pretty messy break up one time, and before I knew it, she was going out with the drummer in the band we were in. Real big guy, all handsome and rich and a virtual genius and all the things I'm not and never could be. To make matters that much worse, he was also my best friend. I lost it, flipped out one night when I'd had too much to drink (that seems to be a recurring theme with us, doesn't it?) and picked a fight with him. Got my arse beat, of course, but I got in a few punches at least. Gayle told me later, after we'd gotten back together and everything, that she was only going out with him to make me jealous. To see if I was still willing to fight for her. _

_I guess that's how I saw it with Paige. That she was trying to get back at me for something. Rather high opinion of my sorry self, isn't it? _

_Truth be told, I still can't stand Tristan. Relationship with Paige aside, after everything that went on with Lee, I just don't like the bugger and I'd still be happy to see him nailed to a wall. I think it was you that first said that, wasn't it? Anyway. I know I messed up with Paige. I'm very well aware of that. But you still have a shot at it. If any of us here could make the girl happy, it'd be you, and I hope it is you. Maybe you're the lesser of two evils. Heh. And while I'm not exactly jumping at the idea of you guys going out, I know you'll be good to her, and even though I had strange ways of showing it, I never wanted anything but the best for her. I think you could treat her the way she deserves to be treated. _

_I have to admit, this letter wasn't a spur-of-the-moment deal. I've actually been sneaking into the library at night and watching you and Paige. You make her happy. She never smiles that way with Tristan, and it was only hollow, empty grins with me. As if she knew I was hiding something, holding back from her and didn't want to show her. _

_You make her happy, and I think she sort of makes you happy, too. I hope things work out for you guys. I really hope things don't get so bad between us that we get in a fight again, because I'd like to keep what body parts I still have in tact and functioning properly. _

_If, by any chance, the two of you happen to get together, just be good to her and I'll be happy. _

_Jono_

Angelo stared down at the letter, whistled, then gave a dopey grin as he set the note aside and leaned back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling and the poster of Jennifer Lopez he had taped to it. He and Paige were going to have to have a talk. 


End file.
